by T J Stimson
‘Your officer said you’d got the results of the post-mortem?’ Maddie said, struggling to keep pace.
The woman ignored her question, stopping and opening the door to a small interview room. ‘If you wouldn’t mind waiting in here, Mr Drummond,’ she said. ‘DS Shortall will be with you shortly.’
‘Couldn’t you just tell us what’s going on first?’ Maddie begged.
‘Just a moment, Mrs Drummond. Please come this way.’
She felt a wave of panic. ‘Why can’t I stay with Lucas?’
‘It’ll be much quicker this way.’
Maddie turned to Lucas in bewilderment. ‘I’m not going anywhere without you!’
‘It’s fine, Maddie. Just let them ask their questions, and I’ll see you soon.’
The woman touched the small of her back, ushering her along the hall. She was shown into an interview room which was both nicer and more intimidating than she’d expected. It had a window that looked out onto the car park and a picture of a sailboat on the wall. A box of tissues sat on a pale ash table, on either side of which were a couple of matching chairs. But the picture was screwed to the wall and there was a large panic button by the door.
Maddie sat down, neatly tucking her chair into the table as if she was back in pre-school. DS Ballard took a seat opposite her.
‘Mrs Drummond, this interview will be recorded. Do you wish to have a solicitor present?’
‘Am I being arrested?’
‘We just want to chat to you, Mrs Drummond, to hear your side of the story. But it is your right to have a solicitor present if you choose. Obviously, this will take longer to arrange, and I’m sure you want to clear everything up as much as we do.’
Maddie nodded eagerly. ‘Whatever I can do to help.’
DS Ballard smiled. ‘Thank you. I should caution you, however, that you do have a right to silence. Whatever you say can be used against you in a criminal case in court, and if you don’t mention something now which you mention later, a court might ask why you didn’t mention it at the first opportunity.’ She smiled again, but Maddie had no idea if it was genuine or not. ‘Can I get you anything to drink? A cup of tea, perhaps?’
Maddie thrust her hands beneath her thighs to still their trembling. ‘I’d just like to get on with this, if that’s OK?’
‘Of course. Before we start, Mrs Drummond—’
‘Please, call me Maddie.’
‘Maddie, thank you. Is there anything you’d like to tell me, Maddie, about what happened to Noah the night he died?’
‘I told the other officer everything already,’ she said, praying the woman wasn’t going to ask her about the bruises again. They didn’t have anything to do with Noah’s death. The accident had happened days ago, and he’d been fine afterwards, she reminded herself. There was nothing else to tell.
DS Ballard tilted her head to one side. ‘There’s nothing you’d like to add, now you’ve had a chance to think about it?’ she asked kindly. ‘We often find people forget things in the heat of the moment. They don’t mean to, but it’s important we get as full a picture as possible before things go too far.’
Maddie’s heart beat a little faster at the thought of what ‘too far’ might mean. She looked away. ‘I can’t think of anything.’
‘Can you tell me who was with Noah the day before he died?’
‘Well, I was with him, obviously. Lucas was working in Poole that day, and he had a late work dinner, so he stayed overnight. I don’t know if he saw Noah in the morning before he left; it was very early. Emily and Jacob had chickenpox, so I kept them off school. My husband’s sister stopped by with some scones, but she didn’t stay long. Otherwise, it was just me.’
‘And what is your sister-in-law’s name?’
‘Candace Drummond.’
‘Did she see Noah while she was visiting?’
‘He was asleep when she arrived, but she did help settle him down when he woke up. I was looking after Jacob; he was so itchy with the chickenpox and it took a while to get him settled.’
‘Was she left alone with Noah?’
‘Yes.’ Maddie suddenly got what the detective was driving at. ‘You can’t think Candace had anything to do with what happened to him? She adores Noah! She’d never hurt him!’
‘Mrs Drummond,’ DS Ballard said softly, ‘what makes you think anyone hurt Noah at all?’
Maddie stared at her. ‘But you just said—’
‘I understand from PC Tudhope you had postnatal depression after your second child was born,’ DS Ballard interrupted, suddenly switching tack. ‘That must have been very difficult for you and your husband.’
‘It – it was, yes.’
‘Tell me, how did you feel when you found out you were expecting another baby so soon after Jacob?’
‘How did I feel?’ Maddie repeated, wondering where this was going.
‘Were you excited? A bit nervous, perhaps?’
Maddie hesitated. ‘A bit, yes.’
‘You must have been anxious. It’d only be natural, after such a difficult experience. The chances of developing postnatal depression are much higher if you’ve already suffered from it with a previous child, am I right?’
‘The doctors knew what to look out for this time,’ Maddie said uncomfortably. ‘I’m on antidepressants. I’m stable now.’
‘So everything’s been fine? No sudden mood swings or anything like that?’
‘No, nothing like that.’ She thought briefly of the paint on the nursery walls. If they found out about that, she’d end up in a padded cell. But there was no reason for Lucas to tell them. It’d been the grief talking, that’s all. She forced a smile. ‘Maybe I could have that cup of tea now, after all?’
‘I just have a few more questions,’ DS Ballard said.
Maddie tried not to panic. Why was the woman interrogating her like this? Trying to trip her up, catch her out. She hadn’t done anything wrong! And she was so tired. She just wanted to go home.
‘What about Lucas?’ DS Ballard asked. ‘How did he feel about the new baby?’
‘He was pleased,’ Maddie said quickly, relieved to be on safer ground. ‘A bit worried about me, of course, after what happened when I had Jacob, but he’s always wanted a large family.’ She smiled. ‘We’d have a football team if I let him.’
DS Ballard smiled back. ‘So he was supportive, then?’
‘Yes, of course. Please, can’t you tell me what this is about?’
‘That bruise on Noah’s cheek,’ DS Ballard said, briefly glancing at her notes again. ‘Remind me, how did he get that?’
Maddie’s stomach plunged. The woman’s tone was deceptively casual, but her eyes didn’t leave Maddie’s face. ‘It happened a few days before Noah died,’ she said uneasily. ‘I found him wedged in a corner of the cot one morning. His face was pressed up against the bars.’
‘He must have been lying face down, then?’ DS Ballard said. She indicated the top of her own cheek. ‘To get those marks.’
‘Yes, I suppose so.’
‘You didn’t put him to sleep on his back?’
Maddie nodded firmly. ‘Oh, yes, we did. Always. They tell you to in the prenatal classes. I made sure Lucas knew to put him to sleep on his back, too. We were both very careful about that.’
‘Noah was ten weeks old, is that right?’
‘Yes.’
DS Ballard looked surprised. ‘Goodness. My sister’s two couldn’t turn over by themselves until they were at least four or five months old.’
Too late, Maddie saw the trap. She flushed, caught in her lie. ‘Maybe one of us forgot that night and laid him on his front,’ she backtracked. ‘Look, I’m sorry, but I’ve got an awful headache. I’ve told you everything I can. Please, I’d like to see Lucas and go home now, if that’s OK.’
DS Ballard leaned forward, her expression sympathetic. ‘Maddie, I can’t begin to imagine what you’re going through,’ she said. ‘To lose a child. It’s every mother’s worst nightmare. Even
when they’re keeping you up all night and you’re so exhausted you can’t even see straight, you never, ever, want anything bad to happen to them.’ She sighed. ‘My niece had colic. She cried for hours every single night for three months. There were times my sister had to leave her in the cot and just get out of the house because she was scared she’d do something she’d regret. And she didn’t have two other children to look after.’
Maddie felt a rush of relief. Only another woman could understand the shameful mix of anguish and frustration at not being able to comfort your own baby. ‘I just couldn’t help him,’ she confessed. ‘No matter what I tried. Nothing made it better.’
‘I know. It’s awful seeing them in pain, isn’t it? And the endless crying, it’s enough to drive you to distraction. You end up not knowing if it’s in your head or if they’re really crying.’
‘He used to wake up the whole house,’ she confided. ‘My nine-year-old, Emily, was falling asleep in school. There were nights when it was so bad, Lucas would take the baby out in the car and just drive around for hours until he fell asleep. But you can’t do that every night, can you?’
‘Of course you can’t,’ DS Ballard agreed. ‘Sometimes it just all gets on top of you. No one would blame you for that. They’d understand.’
Maddie stiffened. ‘There’s nothing to understand,’ she said sharply. ‘I was fine, I told you.’
DS Ballard spun her folder round and pushed it across the desk towards Maddie. ‘That’s not what the post-mortem tells us,’ she said, her voice suddenly steel. ‘Would it surprise you to learn, Mrs Drummond, that Noah’s wasn’t a cot death after all?’
Chapter 17
Wednesday 2.00 p.m.
The expression in the policewoman’s eyes was suddenly unfriendly. Gone was the soft sympathy of just moments ago. ‘In fact, Mrs Drummond, would it surprise you to know that the preliminary post-mortem found that Noah exhibited a number of pathological features suggestive of a non-accidental head injury?’
‘What?’ Maddie gasped.
‘The pathologist found evidence of retinal haemorrhages – that’s bleeding into the linings of the eyes,’ DS Ballard said relentlessly, ‘and subdural haemorrhage, which is bleeding beneath the dural membrane.’
Maddie flinched. ‘Please, stop.’
DS Ballard tapped the doctor’s report. ‘And there, you see? Encephalopathy, that’s damage to the brain affecting function.’
‘It’s not possible—’
‘I’m afraid it is. This was not a cot death, Mrs Drummond. Your son died from serious intracranial injuries.’
The room swam in front of her, and for a moment Maddie thought she was going to pass out. Brain damage? Could her own carelessness in falling asleep have done this to Noah? He’d only been trapped against her rocking chair for a few seconds! He’d been fine the next day. How could it have killed him?
‘The pathologist’s verdict is clear,’ DS Ballard said. ‘Individually, perhaps, each of these clinical findings might be explained away, but all three taken together? You can see why I’m having trouble believing Noah’s injuries were accidental. The only question is, who caused them?’
‘But I loved my son!’
‘Of course you did. Perhaps you didn’t intend to hurt him. Maybe you just snapped. You and I both know what it’s like looking after a colicky baby.’ Her voice softened. ‘Did you shake him, Maddie? If you didn’t actually mean to hurt him, if it happened in the heat of the moment, that might put a different spin on things. But you have to tell me the truth now. No more lies and excuses.’
She felt trapped, like a cornered animal. The policewoman was making it sound like she’d hurt him on purpose. ‘You said these results are preliminary,’ she said desperately. ‘So they might be wrong?’
‘Who hurt Noah, Maddie?’ DS Ballard pressed. ‘You need to tell me. If it wasn’t you, you must know who it was. You can’t protect them any longer. If it was an accident, that’ll be taken into consideration—’
She couldn’t bear it. ‘No! The pathologist is wrong!’
‘Maddie, it’s all right here. The post-mortem findings, the bruises on his cheek. And then there are your own mental health issues, the depression and so on. What am I supposed to think?’
The policewoman had already made up her mind, Maddie realised. They’d heard her medical history and that was it. As far as they were concerned, depression was only one short step away from infanticide. They’d never believe it was an accident now if she told them what had really happened. She hadn’t meant to hurt him. She’d just fallen asleep with her child in her arms, like thousands of mothers did every day. She hadn’t even dropped him. He’d been right next to her in that chair the whole time.
‘They were just a few red marks!’ she cried, more to herself than the policewoman. ‘You could hardly see them!’
‘Oh, I’m not talking about the bruises on his cheek, though I don’t think you’re telling me the whole story about those,’ DS Ballard said. ‘But that’s not how he died, Maddie. Being trapped against the side of his cot wouldn’t be sufficient to cause these types of brain injuries, according to the pathologist. No matter how hard he jammed himself against the bars.’
Maddie reeled. ‘I don’t understand. You just said—’
‘I said he died from his head injuries. But they weren’t caused by the side of his cot or whatever really made those bruises. The damage to his brain was far too violent and deliberate to have been caused by that.’
She felt as if she’d been punched in the gut. ‘Deliberate?’
‘Oh, yes. The pathologist was quite certain on that score. Talk to me, Maddie. Tell me what really happened.’
Her head spun. She couldn’t take it all in. Someone had deliberately hurt her baby? Who? Why?
‘Come on, Maddie,’ DS Ballard urged. ‘Why don’t we start with the truth about how Noah got those bruises?’
Before she could reply, the door opened, and the young constable from reception put his head around the jamb and coughed awkwardly. ‘Excuse me, ma’am?’
DS Ballard looked up in irritation. ‘Yes?’
A smartly dressed black woman in her mid-fifties pushed past the constable. ‘Mrs Drummond, don’t say another word.’
‘Ms Piggott,’ sighed DS Ballard. ‘A pleasure to see you again.’
‘Likewise, Detective Sergeant Ballard,’ the woman said dryly.
‘I’m sorry,’ Maddie stammered. ‘Who are you?’
The woman held out her hand. ‘Rebecca Piggott. Your solicitor.’
Maddie looked bewildered. ‘But I didn’t call a solicitor.’
‘Your mother did. Your husband spoke to her a short time ago and she called me. We’ve worked together a number of times on the hospital board. Now, let’s clear up this ridiculous clusterfuck and get you out of here.’
DS Ballard stood up. ‘Mrs Drummond, you’re free to go. I’m sure we will be talking to you again soon.’
‘With your solicitor present,’ the woman said crisply.
Maddie smiled at her with gratitude. ‘Thank you so much,’ she said, as DS Ballard left the room. ‘This is all a terrible mistake! The police say Noah didn’t die from a cot death, that someone hurt him, but that’s just not possible—’
Rebecca held up a hand. Her long red nails perfectly matched her suit. ‘Let’s not discuss this now,’ she said firmly. ‘We’ll set up a meeting in my office later. I had to cut short a conference call when your mother rang me and I need to get back. In the meantime, I don’t want you to talk to anyone about this case without me present, is that clear?’
‘Have you spoken to Lucas? He’ll tell you—’
‘Mrs Drummond, I’m your solicitor. I haven’t spoken to your husband. And when I say I don’t want you to talk to anyone about this case, that includes him. If necessary, your husband may have to find his own solicitor, whose job will be to protect him, not you. That creates an automatic conflict of interest, so please do not discuss the case wi
th anyone, especially your husband.’
‘But we haven’t done anything!’ Maddie protested, dumbfounded. ‘Can’t you just talk to the police and explain?’
‘Mrs Drummond, I really need you to understand the seriousness of the situation,’ Rebecca said in a tone that brought Maddie up short. ‘The pathologist found a triad of intracranial injuries that are considered typical of what used to be called shaken baby syndrome. Now, before you panic,’ she added, as Maddie felt ready to faint, ‘these cases are extremely controversial and very difficult to prove. But you need to take this investigation very seriously. The police will be looking for evidence that either you or your husband harmed Noah in some way, possibly the two of you together. This is not something that’s just going to go away.’
‘I can’t believe this is happening,’ Maddie said, dazed.
‘I sympathise, but I really don’t have time to talk about this now,’ the solicitor said. ‘Before our next meeting, you should think very carefully about who else had contact with Noah in the day or two immediately prior to his death. If the police find any kind of evidence to support their theory, it will be my job to provide reasonable doubt and point the finger of suspicion away from you.’
Maddie was near to tears. ‘How can they think I’d do anything to hurt my own baby?’
Rebecca sighed. ‘This isn’t about you, Mrs Drummond. The police have a child who has died from a suspected head injury. It’s up to them to investigate. And the sad fact is that, in many of these cases, the injuries are inflicted by someone close to the child.’ She paused, her hand on the door. ‘One other question I’d like you to think very seriously about before we meet again, Mrs Drummond. How well do you really know your husband?’
Chapter 18
Wednesday 4.30 p.m.
They drove home from the police station in silence. Maddie still couldn’t take it in. The idea that someone had deliberately harmed their child, had physically shaken him to death, was so horrifying she couldn’t begin to get her head around it. She felt sick and clammy, as if she was about to throw up. Who? Who would hurt Noah? Who would hurt any baby?